


Transcript

by MrProphet



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	Transcript

**Davis:**

| 

Debriefing begins at 1307 hours. Participants will identify themselves for the recording. I am Major Paul Davis of the Pentagon Special Liaison Office, attached to Area 52.  
  
---|---  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No lawyer then?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Please state your name for the recording, Ma'am.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Dr Nathalie Archangel, Professor of Psychology at UCLA; Consultant Psychotherapist and Consultant Specialist in Hostile Debriefing Strategies to the NID.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

‘Hostile Debriefing Strategies'? Do I take it that that is a euphemism for ‘interrogation'?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You take it correctly, Major Davis.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I would imagine that you could make this debriefing very difficult, Dr Archangel.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Believe me, Major; you have no idea. Don't worry about it, though; I am very, very tired and I intend to cooperate to the fullest extent.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I am delighted to hear it. Perhaps you can begin by telling me what you were doing in the cellars of the Rapide Courier Agency's offices and why, when we searched those cellars, we found eight dead bodies.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

It would probably help if I explain to you the way that I work. Ninety percent of my time I am a psychotherapist, lecturer and supervisor. For the remaining ten percent, I consult on the questioning of  difficult individuals on behalf of the NID. On very rare occasions I will also participate in debriefings myself.  
Three weeks ago, I received a call from my usual contact, instructing me to report to the Rapide offices. Arrangements were made to pay my usual consulting fees and a car was sent to collect me from the campus. I called home and left a message for Carl to say that I would be away for several days.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Would it surprise you to know that the work you have been doing was _not_ on behalf of the NID or of any other government sanctioned agency?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I would be lying if I said that it was a shock. I imagine you have checked my records; could you tell me if I was even paid?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

No payments have been made into your account in the last three weeks.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

And...my family...?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Later, Dr Archangel. Please continue.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Could I at least have a cigarette?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Someone will bring you one. Please continue.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

From the campus I was driven to LAX, where I boarded an NID charter transport which took me to O'Hare. Another car met me and took me to the offices; I was a little surprised as I had never worked at that particular centre before, but the rest was familiar. My driver – an uncommunicative fellow – escorted me from the car to the elevator, used a passkey to access a sub-basement and we both submitted a voice-print ID before the doors would open and let us out. The driver introduced me to Agent Reed, my assigned handler for the op.  
  
| 

_(Door opens)_  
  
**Sgt West:**

| 

Sir.  
  
| 

_(Door closes)  
(Movement. Objects placed on table close to microphone)_  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Thank you, Sergeant.  
  
| 

_(Crackle of cellophane. Click of a lighter)  
(Door opens and closes)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Thank you, Major. I know it's a filthy habit, but everyone should have a vice and this is ultimately less expensive than adultery. I'm sorry. That's a sort of private joke among my circle of friends. Not really that funny, I guess. I'm nervous.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Please continue.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Of course. I wouldn't want to waste anyone's time.  
Agent Reed briefed me on my assignment. We were dealing, he said, with a double-agent with cold feet; a woman who had provided certain electronic intelligence assets, but now refused to reveal the codes needed to release them.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

He didn't go into specifics?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

They never do. I operate on a need to know basis and I still know rather more than any one person is supposed to. The only reason that I'm still alive is that I'm good enough at what I do – and discrete enough – to be worth the risk.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

It doesn't worry you that the knowledge you possess could lead to your death?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

It did at first and I guess that it does now; but you can get used to anything after a while.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Alright. Now, why don't you tell me about this so-called double agent?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

The only name they could give me for her was ‘Orisha'. She was – so Reed said – a defecting former member of an anti-American terrorist group, operating out of Saudi; well-organised and well-equipped. This group had recently acquired certain government property from a top secret research facility and the woman had come to the NID to sell this property to them. Reed didn't go into detail, but then I didn't ask him to. With the little that he did say, he managed to give the impression that it was not _our_ government's property. He told me that Orisha had delivered the goods, but there was some kind of access code involved that they needed to know; more than that, I wasn't bothered.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

You were just worried about the money.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You don't have any children, do you, Major? I have two and a husband who lost most of his job skills in a crippling accident. Yes, I worry about the money. Why do you think the NID come to me in the first place?  
But what I actually meant was that the details are essentially meaningless to me. I usually don't understand the finer points anyway. All I need to know is what information they need me to recover from the subject, what measures have been taken already and how long I have to work. In this case, they wanted the codes and I had as long as it took; an unusual luxury for someone who gets paid by the hour, but I suppose it is easier to employ someone on an open-ended basis if you _know_ you're never going to pay them.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

What measures had already been used?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Standard NID one- and two-man questioning techniques, truth serums and...aggressive, proactive interrogative strategies.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

You don't need to hedge, Dr Archangel. I'm well aware what APIs are. So Orisha had been tortured?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Yes; and everything had failed. That's pretty standard for me; they only call me in for the really tough nuts.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

You don't look like a nutcracker.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You don't crack a tough nut, Major Davis; you have to soften it up. Mind you, Orisha did not look so tough, either.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

What _did_ she look like?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

More than anything else, she looked like a cheerleader. She was quite tall, strong, athletic; very pretty on a good day, although she was a bit of a mess by the time I met her. The NID – or whoever – had her in a set of prison coveralls and almost shaved her head. Her face was bruised and swollen and there were some electrical burns on her hands and scalp. Her earlobes had been pierced, three or four times each, but the rings had been torn out. Her cheeks...Is this making you uncomfortable, Major?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

No, Dr Archangel.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I know you're lying. I'm glad; I wouldn't want to think you were the sort of man who would be comfortable with the treatment they dealt out to her. Anyway; she didn't look Saudi, more North African, but I had no reason to question Reed's story since I did not need to believe it.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Then how did you approach her?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

The same way that I always do. The first session is always about getting a feel for the subject.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

The ‘subject'? That is how you wish to think of me?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

It is simply a general term; I certainly do not look on you as a generality. Is there something in particular that you would like me to call you?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

My name is Orisha bint Jehade of Memphis. You are my captor and as such, you may call me whatever you wish.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I see. Then I will call you Orisha. You may call me Nathalie, or Dr Smith, if you feel more comfortable with that.  
  
| 

_(Pause. Click of lighter)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Please excuse my bad habits. Would you like one?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I do not willingly permit toxins to enter my body. If you wish to poison me beyond obliging me to inhale your waste smoke, you will have to strap me down again.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No-one will be strapping you to anything, Orisha. Those mistakes will not be repeated.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I was promised that before.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

As I have already explained, Orisha, your debriefing has previously been grossly mismanaged. My department have been called in to ensure that that does not happen again. You are not an enemy, Orisha, and we deeply regret that a friend has received such treatment.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You have no idea who I am, have you, Nathalie?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I like to approach a problem from a fresh perspective. I find that difficult if I come in with too great a body of preconceived data and opinion.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Did they say where I was from?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

We're not here to discuss what I know, but what _you_ know. Moreover, I have been asked to find out what you want in exchange for what _we_ want; an amicable arrangement.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

To begin with, Nathalie, I would like you to bring me the man who did this to me.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Let the record show that Orisha indicated a large contusion above the orbit of her left eye.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I want to face this man, alone.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You want an apology? As I have said, the NID has offered an unreserved...  
  
**Orisha**

| 

What apology could you give? No, Nathalie; I want his life in my hands. I want you to bring this man to me so that I can kill him.  
  
| 

_(Pause)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I'm sure you know that I can not agree to that.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I suspected as much, but you asked me what I wanted.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I can only repeat the apology that you have already received and assure you that disciplinary measures...  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

He has red hair and a killer's eyes. He enjoyed hurting me, but it angered him that I would not scream. Be wary of that man, Nathalie; that one would enjoy making _you_ scream.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Orisha; I can not alter what has happened, however much I might want to. If we are to reach an accord, we must look forward.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You mean that if we do not reach accord, I can look forward to similar treatment in the future?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I mean that if you dwell on what has happened, we can not progress and find a way to satisfy all of our needs.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You are, I think , an overly optimistic person. Moreover, you have no idea of who I am. If you want to get anywhere, I suggest that you ask your superiors for more information. Begin by asking about Mr Cook and Dr Reith.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Mr Charles Cook and Dr Taylor Reith?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

_Your_ superiors clearly do not believe in sending you in uninformed. Yes; Orisha was talking about Charles Cook and Taylor Reith.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Did you know either man?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

We worked in a limited field and we were three of its leading lights. Cook was an in-house, NID interrogator; a sort of one-man good-cop-bad-cop routine. Not the nicest man in the world. I understand that his involvement ended...terminally.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

His body was found in a quarry not far from here, eight weeks ago. He had been there almost a week by then and there was substantial post-mortem trauma, but it appeared that he had died from a broken neck. From the marks on his chin and throat, someone broke that neck for him.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Oh.  
Well...Taylor was a lot more in my line. He was a former confidence man with a PhD in marketing psychology. He used to talk regular folks out of their savings; now he talks fanatics out of their dogma.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Actually...  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No!  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I'm sorry. His body was pulled out of the river not long after you started work with Orisha. He'd been strangled with a wire less than a day before they found him.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

God. I...I knew Taylor. I liked him. I met his family; his wife...I can't believe that anyone could do something like that to such a sweet man.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Did you ask Reed about Cook and Reith?  
  
| 

_(Pause)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

_(Whispered response not caught by microphone)_  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I'm sorry, Dr Archangel, but I need to know.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I said yes! Yes, I asked him. I was worried that Orisha had been over-questioned. After a while, there's just nothing to be done with a prisoner, especially if she had already withstood Taylor's techniques. As I said, his work was similar to mine and she would have to be wise to the methods by now. I explained earlier that I consider previous efforts as need-to-know information and so I became rather angry with Agent Reed.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

And what did he say.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

He admitted that both men had been assigned and that neither had achieved any results. They had been dismissed due to their lack of progress and a ‘dearth of professionalism', which I found unlikely.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Did he elaborate.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Do you know what he meant?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I believe that Dr Reith was believed to have developed too great an attachment to me. He was very sweet.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

And Mr Cook?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Mr Cook attempted to assault me and I was forced to defend myself. I can not think that anyone blames me for what happened.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

What, exactly, happened?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I defended myself. My condolences must go to his family.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

So you knew that Cook had been killed, but you didn't quit the job.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I have learned that the NID accept remarkably few excuses for terminating an assignment.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I imagine that the Trust – your actual employers in this case – would be even less forgiving than the legitimate NID.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I did not test the point. I was well-aware by now that this was going to be a far tougher job than I had anticipated. Orisha had defeated two other debriefing specialists, as well as the NID methods. Reed was certain that I would be successful because I was a woman, but I did not share his confidence.  
I _did_ make some progress with Orisha, but it was heavy going. After a fortnight I had still not managed to get any useful information, but she was beginning to reveal a few details of her own life and I was beginning to divine more than she was telling. Most importantly, I began to realise that, not only was she eager to escape from custody, but that there was specifically someone or something that she was desperate to get back to.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You are certainly more perceptive than your predecessors, Nathalie. Or perhaps...it simply takes one to know one?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I do not know what you mean.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You are very good at controlling your expression, Nathalie, but you can not conceal your impatience to be finished with all of this. Who is it that you wish to return to, my friend?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

As I have said so many times, we are not here to talk about me. Who do you want to go home to?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

And as I have said, I do not care for such a one-sided arrangement. If you answer me and tell me who waits fro you at home, I will answer you. I give you my word on that.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Would this be your usual method of working?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

My job is to gain people's trust...  
  
**Davis:**

| 

With an eye to betraying their secrets.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

That is what Orisha said. But I do open myself up to them, sometimes. Except, of course, they all think that my name is Smith.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

For reasons of security, I take it.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I have a family. A husband and two children; a boy and a girl. I don't see them while I'm working and I miss them like I was missing a limb.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Of course. How old are the children.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Jim is nine and Laura almost twelve. Carl is forty-two.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Is he good to you?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Yes.  
  
| 

_(Pause)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

What about you?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I do not even know your husband. Why would he be good to me?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I mean, who do you wish to return to? A husband?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I am not so blessed. My sister was married, however, although she is now widowed. When I was able, I would travel to stay with her and her son; my nephew, Seker. He is the same age as your daughter and quite handsome. If we had met in better circumstances, perhaps we would speak of their marriage.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

To be honest, I do not intend to think much about Laura's wedding for many years. I take it that in your culture, arranged marriage is the norm?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

That is so.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Was no such match arranged for you?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Service comes above the individual. I did have a lover, but even he was chosen for me. I took him to my bed at the orders of My Lord; it was fortunate that I did not find him repugnant and that he was a kind and gentle man.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You speak of him in the past tense.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Yes. When your employers captured me, he fought to protect me. He fought valiantly, as he always did, but that was the only time that I had ever seen him defeated. They could not strike him down and so they used some kind of deadly air on him. It did not harm me, but he died in great pain.   
The red-haired one was there. He enjoyed watching my lover's demise; he enjoyed seeing my pain in that loss and he enjoyed subduing me afterwards. I killed one of his companions and he seemed to enjoy that as well. If...when they decide that it is time for you to die, I hope that they do not ask _him_ to kill you.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No-one is going to kill me, Orisha.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You are not one of them, but you know their secrets. You know of this place; you know of me. You will know anything that I might tell you. Do you truly believe that these people will allow you to leave?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Did you?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I told you that I know more than anyone is supposed to know, and I had no reason to doubt it; at least, not until Agent Reed interrupted the session to explicitly assure me that Orisha's claims were untrue. That was the first time he had outright lied to me and I read it in his face.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

And what did you do?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I carried on. Whatever their plans might be, quitting was not an option. If they were going to kill me then they would kill me; if I fought them, my family might become involved.

Major Davis, please...Tell me; my family...?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Your husband alerted us when you left a message for him but no corresponding call was received from the NID. It emerged that your contact, Major Bell, went missing at the same time you did, but the record of his call to you was recovered. After a little digging, the investigating agents discovered Major Bell's body in his apartment; it looked like suicide, but they determined that he was murdered.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

What about Carl! What about my kids! Please tell me.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

They are safe and well. The NID placed them in protective custody with an utterly reliable detail, although they were not happy to go without you. You will be sent to join them after this debriefing is over and you will be kept safe until the Trust can be rooted out and destroyed.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You really believe that will happen, don't you?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I am certain of it. They have allowed me to say too much. In a way, I have signed your death warrant; I am sorry for that.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Why are you sorry?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I feel very close to you, Nathalie. Once, I did as you do on behalf of My Lord Osiris. I was her lo'taur and high priestess: both her personal servant and the chief of all her worshippers; a great honour for a mere human.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I thought that Osiris was a male god?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Once it was so. She would joke about it sometimes, saying that she would once have found me desirable, when she wore a man's flesh.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I do not understand.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Of course you do not.  
  
| 

_(Pause)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

So...In which capacity did you debrief your Lord's agents?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

As her lo'taur, I would question those who did not yet understand that they were prisoners. This is what you do, yes? Small fault of yours if your employers gave the game away before you arrived?  
But I know what it is to live your life, Nathalie. I know what it is to befriend someone; to tease out their secrets, only to betray them to another. I know what it is to play such a part in leading another to betray themselves and all that they care about, then to return to the bosom of your family and pretend that nothing has changed.  
That you have not just died a little more inside.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You are wrong about...  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Am I?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

No.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I find it hard to believe that this was standard procedure for you, Dr Archangel.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

It was not, but then I had never had to debrief another debriefer before. Part of preserving distance is to sympathise with your subject without empathising, but in this case...It was easy to set aside the coincidence that we both had families; similarly that we were both trained in hostile debriefing tactics.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Such a tidy phrase.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

But that we both felt the same way about our work; and that the same men were going to kill us both. We were both trapped; Reed would use us and then dispose of us. It was hard not to feel the connection.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Yes; I can see how that could make you feel close.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I'm out of cigarettes.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

We'll get you some more.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Never mind. I've been meaning to quit, anyway. This may be a good time to start.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Tell me, Nathalie: Do you feel the blood on your hands when you hold your children?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Sometimes.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Sometimes, I would see my sister's face on those I questioned. Sometimes I would see their faces on her. I knew well enough that people died because of things that I learned and sometimes I imagined that my nephew was among the dead.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I am sure that these are not uncommon feelings. Anyone who leads a double life...  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Of that I am sure. My sister, for example, could not be at ease with any man.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

What did she do?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

She was a temple dancer and a sacred prostitute in the temple of Isis. She was permitted almost limitless freedom to do whatever she wished between her hours of service, but she found it hard to love when sex was so empty of love for her. Even with her husband, she could never be entirely comfortable; it made me weep to see them, so in love yet unable to touch each other.  
But I find myself speaking of Tharbis as though she had joined her husband in death. To the best of my knowledge she lives still, although the Temple of Isis will have lost its privileged status in the days since My Lord's demise. It is hard to say what Anubis will do with the temple now; I shudder simply to think of it.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I too have a sister.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Indeed.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

She is an executive in a greetings card company.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You think that a more honourable role than sacred prostitute?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I wouldn't like to judge.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Liar. Is she married? Your sister?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Divorced, actually. She never had children.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I'm sorry.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Don't be. Her husband was a bastard.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Then I am sorry that you will never return to your family again.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

I take it that it was not long after this recording was made that matters came to a head.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You take it correctly. About four weeks after my arrival, Agent Reed ordered me to ask directly about the codes. I'd seen no-one but Reed since my driver had left, but now there was another man behind him: A man with red hair and murderous eyes.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

It seems that your time has run out.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

They want the codes, Orisha. They have run out of patience.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

If they would gain access to My Lord's ship, they must do so without my assistance.  
  
| 

_(Door opens)_  
  
**Reed:**

| 

Miss Orisha; we have possessed control of your mistress' ship for some time now. What we require from you is access to Osiris' protected files.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

For the benefit of the tape, Agent Reed has entered the interview room in the company of...  
  
**Lewes:**

| 

Lewes. Captain Lewes.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You are a brave man to appear before me again, Captain.  
  
**Reed:**

| 

Our patience is quite exhausted, Miss Orisha. Tell us the access codes or I will be forced to let my associate...have his way with the good doctor.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

You are insane, Reed.  
  
| 

_(Struggle. A stifled scream)_  
  
**Lewes:**

| 

I think, Dr Archangel, that you will soon realise that that is _my_ job description.  
  
**Reed:**

| 

Yes. I am sure that you would be able to diagnose Captain Lewes with some form of moral insanity, even if he were to be deemed mentally competent. He is very loyal, however; loyal, obedient and – above all – _unquestioning_. If I tell him to simply slit your throat, he will do it.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

_(Choked)_ I take it that was an offer, not a threat.  
  
**Reed:**

| 

Oh yes. I assure you that a simple slashed throat would be an improvement on anything that he could come up with on his own.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I will tell you nothing.  
  
**Reed:**

| 

You would let my excitable comrade loose on your friend?  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

She lied to me about her name. What friend would do that?  
  
**Reed:**

| 

You were a better liar when we first met. But have it your own way; if you wish this to stop at any time, simply call out. I shall be outside, since I have no wish to watch Captain Lewes work.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

I am sorry Nathalie.  
  
| 

_(Sounds of struggling. The door closes)  
(Pause)  
(Loud and prolonged crashing noise)  
(Silence)_  
  
**Davis:**

| 

She did what?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Orisha had her hands cuffed behind her back. When Reed was gone, she tipped herself backwards until she was balanced on the back legs of her chair, then kicked my ashtray at Captain Lewes. It was a good kick.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

While restrained, she took out a trained...  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

...and armed...  
  
**Davis:**

| 

USAF special forces veteran, with an _ashtray_?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

I've never been happier to be an addict.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

What happened then?  
  
| 

_(Door opens. Shots)_  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Then...I killed Reed.  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

The cuffs. Quickly.  
  
| 

_(Shots)_  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

You have never killed before?  
  
| 

_(Strangled choke)_  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

It seems we are not so similar, then. I should keep that gun with you and...where did your pen go when I upset the table?  
  
| 

_(Pause)_  
  
**Orisha:**

| 

Thank you. I will give you a telephone number. After I am gone, call and they will help you.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

And that was...my number?  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Don't ask me how she got it; I didn't. I just accepted.  
Orisha took Reed's gun and left; I followed after a minute or two. I heard a lot of shooting and I found a few bodies. As soon as I found a room with a phone I barricaded the door and called you. The rest...  
  
**Davis:**

| 

The rest I know.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

So what happens now?  
  
**Davis:**

| 

You'll be taken to your family. You may find the journey uncomfortable, but you have my word that you'll come to no harm.  
  
**Archangel:**

| 

Thank you, Major Davis.  
  
**Davis:**

| 

Thank you, Dr Archangel. Debriefing ends at 2318.  
  
| 

_(Tape ends)_  
  
Major Paul Davis felt tired. Dr Archangel's story had been harrowing, for all that it lacked any gory details. Listening to the tapes of Orisha's questioning had almost made him physically sick. He was used to reading SG team field reports and Dr Archangel's courage left him staggered.

"Major Davis?" Dr Archangel hazarded.

"Paul," he replied. "Call me Paul."

"Paul. The man with red hair? Captain Lewes. I never checked to see if he was dead. Do you know...?"

Paul briefly considered lying, but he knew that he would be seen through in an instant. "We didn't find him," he admitted. "We had the place cordoned off pretty quickly, but...Well, Alex Lewes was always good at getting into and out of places."

"You know him?"

"In a way," Davis hedged. "I was the man responsible for having him court-martialled; charged with just about every crime covered by the Flag Code."

"And?" Dr Archangel fixed Paul with a piercing gaze.

"I...I worked with him before that," Paul admitted. "I used to be the leader of a five-strong intelligence unit. Lewes killed two of them; I managed to get myself and my 2IC out."

"And the fifth."

Paul said nothing.

"Oh. Lewes?"

Paul nodded. "During the court-martial investigation, when we found out that, as a child he used to shoot at dogs with an air rifle and pull the legs off spiders, it wasn't much of a surprise. He was the kind of man who either goes to jail at eighteen and never sees daylight or ends up working for his government. I've achieved a lot since I started working at Area 52, but seeing him go away for life still ranks as one of the more satisfying moments of my life."

"Then how...?"

Paul sighed. "Getting into and _out of_ places."

"Ah."

"We'll let you know when we catch him," Paul promised. "I imagine you'd like to know."

Dr Archangel nodded her head. "I would. I don't think I'll feel safe without...Carolyn."

"Your sister?"

"He must know about my family," Dr Archangel insisted. "Lewes likes hurting women; Orisha was right about that. If he can't get to me, then..."

Paul nodded in understanding. "Carolyn is quite safe," he assured her. "She was with your family when the NID picked them up and has been placed in protective custody with the others. You'll see her tonight. Well, tomorrow morning by now."

"Again, thank you, Paul," Dr Archangel sighed. "Do you know how long we'll be in protective custody?"

"Not long," Paul promised. "If you need to be away from home more than a few weeks more, we'll find somewhere more comfortable."

"Well, if you find yourself in our neck of the woods, you might pay us a visit."

"That's very kind of you."

Dr Archangel smiled, for the first time since Paul had met her. "After the last few weeks, it's nice to meet someone honest and kind. Besides; I'm always on the lookout for a nice guy to fix Carolyn up with."

"Ah."

Dr Archangel chuckled. "Well; keep it in mind."

"I shall."

 

Paul waited until Dr Archangel was on her way to the Alpha Site, via Cheyenne Mountain, under escort, before going down to the parking lot for his own car. His hand was on the door handle when he saw a shadow move in the reflections on the window. He knew that the building was surrounded by Security Forces and virtually impenetrable, but then, that was the kind of challenge that Alex Lewes would revel in; he liked to reach people where they thought that they were safe.

"Hello, Captain; or is it _Major_ Davis now?"

"Alex." Paul tried to think of a way out, but his pistol was in his attaché case and even unarmed, Lewes was deadlier by far than he. "What do you want?"

"Nothing much," Lewes replied. "Just your security pass and for you to disappear long enough for me to reach the SGC. Oh, and a few hours alone with Dr Archangel would be a very treat."

"You're an evil bastard, Alex; always were." Paul squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he had just killed himself. Alex was resentful about his parentage at the best of times.

There was the soft sound of a safety catch being removed. "Just for that, Paul, when I _do_ find my way back to Earth, I think I'm going to pay a little call on Lieutenant Peters as well."

"No!"

Paul tried to turn and Lewes clubbed him to the ground with the butt of his pistol.

"Did it make you proud that you managed to protect her from me, Paulie?" Lewes mocked. "Did getting her home safely make up for not saving Lincoln and Bight? You know, I find that I rather like the idea of you dying in the knowledge that you've failed to protect _anyone_. It makes me smile." There was an all-too brief pause. "Goodbye, Paul."

Paul waited for the shot, but it never came. He was about to look around when Lewes' body fell with a soft crash beside him. A line of blood welled up at his throat; he clutched at the wound with one dying hand and clawed towards Paul with the other.

"Goodbye," Paul said, softly and without triumph. He rolled onto his back and looked up. "Hello," he said.

Orisha dropped her bloody knife to the asphalt. "You are Major Davis?"

"Yes."

"I shall tell you anything you want to know," she said.

"Why?" Paul asked.

Orisha looked him in the eye. "Because...Because I want to go home."


End file.
